


After the Barricade

by ingoldamn



Series: Les Miserables Shorts [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, But whatever, M/M, Post-Barricade, also combeferre's dead body is mentioned, looks like i'm back to writing sad stuff, mentions of murder and such, montprouvaire angst, sorry - Freeform, the characterization probs suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingoldamn/pseuds/ingoldamn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Montparnasse finds Jehan's body at the barricade. He remembers the first time they met.</p><p>(This might be sad)</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Barricade

The sun has only just set, when Montparnasse finds Jehan’s body at the barricade (or what’s left of it, rather). At this point he has been searching for hours, looking through the ruins of the buildings surrounding the barricade (he’d taken a gold pocket watch from a young man in a blue waistcoat who was still staring at the sky through his broken glasses), until he had suddenly noticed a dirty-blond braid on the ground (a braid he had recognised instantly, for only this morning, he had been the one to comb out the hair and braid it), the braid yet attached to that beautiful head, which he knows so very well, although its beauty is now marred by streaks of blood and a gaping bullet hole in the forehead - Montparnasse can't quite fight back the nausea that hits him at the sight (‘and isn't that funny?’ asks a treacherous, malevolent voice in the back of his head, ‘the great Montparnasse! nauseous at the sight of a little blood.’ It sounds like M. Thénardier. He tells it to shut up).

But Jehan is undoubtedly dead and so far beyond any help, that Montparnasse can’t help but fall to his knees next to the body, suddenly overwhelmed by his own mortal helplessness. He pulls Jehan close, placing the dead man’s head in his lap and strokes the blond, blood-matted hair gently. Montparnasse closes his eyes and tries to make himself believe that Jehan is still breathing, that it isn't over.

Unbidden his mind takes him back to the first time they met; it was in the Lafayette Cemetery, at midnight, in June 1829. Montparnasse, no more than fifteen years old at the time, had killed a man but minutes before and had decided to take a short cut through the cemetery to avoid being seen with the still-wet blood spatters of his latest victim upon his coat. Despite the ruined coat, he was in high spirits, for the murder had presented him with a new hat and a rather nice, lace handkerchief. He found himself whistling a happy tune as he walked past the tall headstones, but, as he believed himself to be quite alone, he was rather surprised, when a soft voice sounded from behind the headstone of a banker and his wife. The voice, which was probably male but could have belonged to a deep-voiced woman, was humming along to the tune Montparnasse had been whistling, and was followed by the appearance of a pretty face, surrounded by long, dirty-blond hair. The face smiled softly to him where he stood and said: “good evening, Monsieur, how wonderful to meet a fellow lover of the cemeteries of Paris. My name is Jean Prouvaire, but you may call me Jehan, if you wish.” The face, followed by a long, lean body (Montparnasse noted with distant amusement, that Jean Prouvaire wore a waistcoat covered in dark purple flowers, that his cravat was a most hideous shade of yellow and that his coat was blue with thin, white stripes) moved out from behind the headstone. “Who are you?” Jean Prouvaire asked curiously. Montparnasse hesitated, wondering whether to tell Jean Prouvaire his name – already rather famous – or not. In the end he decided that he could always kill Jean Prouvaire if he proved a threat.

“… Montparnasse,” he said slowly, enunciating each syllable as clearly as he could, while carefully watching Jean Prouvaire for any sigh of fear or recognition, but none came. Jean Prouvaire merely smiled and invited Montparnasse to join him. Montparnasse did so, without completely knowing why.

The memory fades and reality comes rushing back full force. He is still holding Jehan’s body, clutching it close, and he is surprised to find that he is crying. Realisation hits him abruptly that there will be no more evenings in the cemeteries of Paris, no more poetry about his eyes or his hair, no more visits to dodgy opium-dens, no more dinners together, no more smiles, no more shared pleasures, no more.

For what seems like an eternity – it could be hours or mere minutes, he knows not which – he sits there, hugging Jehan’s body and sobbing quietly, until there are no tears left in his body and he starts to feel cold, despite the numbness he can’t quite get rid off. Slowly he places Jehan on the ground and, placing a kiss on his cheek, finally stands up. For a moment he looks at the body, face expressionless, despite the dried tears upon his cheeks, then he turns and walks away, silently finding his way home (as he is leaving, he stumbles upon a body he knows all too well, and suddenly he is glad that he wore the purple cravat, because it was always Éponine’s favourite and now he can take it off and gently place it around her neck – it’s not enough, he knows, Éponine deserved the world. It will never be enough).

 

Three weeks later a beautiful young man with lips like cherries is found dead upon the grave of a banker, next to a bottle of absinthe.

He is never connected to the feared murderer Montparnasse, but it is known that after the failed rebellion of June 1832, after the young man’s burial and after the departure of a man called Jondrette and his daughter, the terrible gang Patron-Minette was never the cause of trouble in Paris ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'm completely happy with this, but here it is anyway.
> 
> I'm ingoldamn on tumblr - come say hi!


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